American lady living in Kuwait commenting on daily occurrances through her warped perspective. Her travels take us beyond the boundaries of normalcy.
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Tuesday, November 28, 2006

My 11-year-old nephew is amazing. Somehow, he is a 40 year old guy in a kid’s body. He’s always been smarter than his age and very insightful. I tell him all the time that I am his real mother (everybody says he looks just like me). ‘Ace (his nickname)…. I need tell you something…. Now, you know that I travel a lot and my life isn’t right for children.’ “Okaaaayyy….” ‘Well, when you were born, I gave you to my sister to raise. I’m just not good with children and I think she has done a great job with you. I am so proud of you, my son…’ He’s like, “Yeah, mom, I know.” Then he proceeds to spend the next year telling my sister that he doesn’t have to do his homework because, “My real mom wouldn’t want me to.” Or that he can drink the 2 liter bottle of Pepsi because, “My real mom lets me do it.” Ah, I love messin’ with people’s heads – kids are the best, don’t you think?

Anyhoo, this was his recent school paper on his future:

My high school life will be great, but it will have a lot of stress. I will be preparing for college and finding lots of time to have fun. I hope to have plenty of close friends and to be known through out the school. I will be on the varsity football team and captain of the hockey team. My teachers will be usually nice and only the occasionally not so great teacher. The parties and the people will be wild. (He really IS my son!) While in high school I will have job at the ice rink teaching skating and instructing hockey. I will most likely get my own place when I’m eighteen or nineteen (no, he won’t. No one to wash his clothes), go to college on a full scholarship for hockey. From there I will be drafted to play for the New York Rangers. (You go, booooyyyy!)Once I’m very rich I will travel a lot no care in the world, no place to be, time will be a distant memory no more worries about not having enough time or too much time I will just be. Mainly I will travel to Ireland and Scotland where life is simpler. (Says who?) I will never have an official place I will call home. For example maybe one year I will stay in Canada then the next Alaska I will not go back to anywhere it will always be “so where should I go next?” on holidays I would make exceptions to go where my family is. Money will not be an issue because every where I go I will get a house and sell it or occasionally let people rent it out. Every where I go I will try to help people and donate to charities and help rebuild houses, do whatever I can do to help the people in need (I love him so much.).

When I am about forty, I will move to California and go to director school to become a director. (that’s what I want to do) I will make tons of great movies all academy award winning. I will be bigger then Mel Gibson and the man who created Star Wars. One day I will finally meet Mel Gibson the director I idolize. There in California I will meet a beautiful woman named Roxana and we will get married in Ireland and have two boys in Scotland. We will finally settle down in Ireland but we will spend our summers in Canada, Scotland and Alaska. We will still go see my family and relatives from time to time .For my fifty third birthday I will travel one last time alone to Scotland and look at back at my truly amazing life.

I never knew some of this stuff (I am a terrible play-mother). Why Mel Gibson? Why Scotland and Ireland? (I love them by the way – for no other reasons than trashy romance novels; rogues and all that.) Why Roxana?

I just checked out Aceituna’s blog, Woman on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, which I am narcissistic enough to assume is all about ME; hence the title. She totally reminded me of something I wanted to mention about Brokeback Mountain…… Was the first scene when they are “gettin’ it” more like kickin' someone’s ass rather than lovin’ it? Ok, I couldn’t tell at first, but it appeared to me to be 2 guys beating each other up (in the non-sexual sense of the term) rather than being romantic. (The first time I saw it I was on a plane to the US and the guy next to me looked all nervous, so I turned it off after the first "love" scene; and watched it on the way back to Kuwait.) I can’t remember at time when I, personally, ever started a romantic encounter that way. Now, I’m not saying that it didn’t later turn into hair pulling, smacking-around (non-violent – just fun), but it never started that way. And hey – when is it ever romantic to actually punch someone in bed (or on a bedroll or wherever)? I would just grab my ice pick from under the mattress and….. oh wait… that was someone else’s life. Nevermind.

I saw “The New World” the other night. It sucked. I went in for an uplifting experience. NOT. I bought “The Queen” from DVD guy. It was kind of slow, but very good. I had to keep reminding myself that the actress wasn’t the real queen. Borat is sitting on my dining room table and I can’t wait to watch that to see what all the hullabaloo is about (hey – spell check just fixed my hullabaloo. I didn’t even think it was a real word. Let me try “hooey”… holy shit, it is!).

Sunday, November 26, 2006

A few weeks ago, I was (t)asked to go to a trade meeting for Slovenia. I mingled with the delegates – who were all very interested in doing business with Kuwait. I didn’t know nada about Slovenia, but the people in the delegation were incredibly kind and humble and I liked all of them very much. I met with one man who wanted to find agents in Kuwait to represent his high-end crystal company. I commented that a worker in my house had just smashed a crystal vase my sister had given me - and how upset I was - and maybe he if he got things going in Kuwait, I’d buy one of his pieces. I made a few phone calls and found a Kuwaiti investor who is a friend – and very happy to have had the connection. The deal is close to completion. I received some e-mails from the company and I was happy that I could help.

This morning, I’m sittin at my desk in a regularly-foul mood these days and the tea man brings in a big box. I snap his head off (as usual these days) for interrupting me in the middle of whatever stupid thing I was up to that moment. Then, I saw the label on the box. I can’t believe he did this – the crystal man sent me a gorgeous (and no doubt very expensive) vase.

Sometimes I am just blown away by people’s incredible kindnesses. I can’t remember someone – a stranger no less – being so thoughtful and gracious. The tea boy looked totally confused when I burst into tears. I guess he probably thought of me as non-human; God knows sometimes I feel like it. Then, somebody does something like this for me and my faith is restored in humanity.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

I do thank God that my problems are minimal because it could be so much worse. And yet….

I met several guys this weekend. Must be Autumn heat or something.

The one that astonished me the most was the Guy with 14 Kids. Yes, you read correctly. I asked him how many kids he has and he said “7 boys and 7 girls”. Ok, I thought it was bad enough that he was married, but 14 kids? WTF? The Universe is definitely messing with me. The GW14K is only 40! His wife is 37 (yes – as in SINGULAR. She has given birth to 14 kids). Now, I don’t want to say anything about the Grand Canyon, but that amount of Kegel exercises must be hell. None of them were twins. He showed me her picture and she is really pretty. Their youngest kid is 2 months old. Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy???? He makes 1200 kd a month. (Yes, I found that out in 45 minutes.) I mean – when I think of the amount of spending potential I have…. And he’s got 2 maids and a driver, so he’s supporting a total of NINETEEN people on 1200 kd a month. What the F does he think he’s going to do for me??? I felt guilty just sitting there having a cup of coffee at his expense. Talk about taking food from a baby’s mouth… Ok – have these people never heard of birth control? What about The Snip? It I was a guy and I had say – anywhere upwards of 6 kids… SNIP SNIP! (Oh, come on you whiners – it isn’t like your balls fall off or anything! Jeez.) He said she gets pregnant so that he won’t have money to marry someone else. I have several arguments in support of the opposing view, but it would be redundant to even mention them. 14 kids. I can’t even imagine being around 1 kid very long. That’s like havin frickin puppies. I mean – the guy didn’t look hailag or anything. He looked like a regular guy. I wish they would wear some kind of tag or something so people like me could tell. Just knowing this fact made me scared as hell of him: Eeeek. Someone could get pregnant just being in the vicinity. I wanted to go home and take the Morning After pill after 1 cappuccino across the table from him (after I scraped my jaw off the floor).

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

I read an article in the Arab Times this morning that pissed me off: 3 Kuwaiti men just got off without any jail time after raping-sodomizing a Kuwaiti transvestite. They pulled him/her out of his car, kidnapped him and took him to a farm in Kabd where all 3 raped him. What makes it right to rape anyone?? The transvestite obviously had to summon an incredible amount of inner strength to go to a police office in this country and file a case. As a Kuwaiti - with all the stigma attached to "face" and honor/family name, it must have been a daunting task. Anywhere else (albeit Western) in the world, this heinous act would have been considered a hate crime:

By Moamen Al-MasriArab Times StaffKUWAIT CITY, Nov 21: The Criminal Court Tuesday refrained from passing a sentence against a Kuwaiti man, identified as Faisal H, who was charged with raping a Kuwaiti transvestite, identified only as AE, but ordered him to sign a pledge of good conduct for two years.

Case papers indicate on Sept 2, 2005, the victim wearing women's clothes and full make-up was driving from a farm in Kabad to town. Three cars including the three suspects chased the victim, forced him to stop and dragged him out of the car.

Khaled H took him to a deserted place and raped him. Then, salem drove the victim to a farm owned by the three men and raped him. At that moment, Faisal interfered and convinced the victim to go with him under the pretext of protecting him fromt he other two men in return for having sex with him.

Faisal is said to have driven the victim and return to the farm some time later. He ordered the victim to take off his clothes and he was shocked when he discovered the victim was a man, and not a woman. However, he had sex with him.

Then, faisal dropped the victim at the nearest roundabout and drove off giving him his cell phone number. When the victim left, he discovered the disappearance of KD 260 from his handbag. Six days after the victim filed a case against the three men. Police arrested Khaled and Salem, but they denied the charges. Faisal was not arrested. On May 9, 2006, the Criminal Court acquitted Khaled and Salem, but sentenced Faisal to three years in absentia for having sex with the victim of his own free will.

Then, faisal dropped the victim at the nearest roundabout and drove off giving him his cell phone number. When the victim left, he discovered the disappearance of KD 260 from his handbag.

Six days after the victim filed a case against the three men. Police arrested Khaled and Salem, but they denied the charges. Faisal was not arrested.

On May 9, 2006, the Criminal Court acquitted Khaled and Salem, but sentenced Faisal to three years in absentia for having sex with the victim of his own free will

The second involves a story I've been following in Saudi Arabia. I thought it was hard to GET married, this poor girl is fighting to STAY married... Dudes, what is the world coming to?

Khaleej TimesAbu DhabiTuesday, October 31, 2006

In Saudi Arabia, divorce can have shocking aspectsJudge forcefully cuts short happy marriage because of ‘tribal incompatibilities’

From our correspondentJeddah – that the divorce rate in Saudi Arabia is shocking is telling it like it is.

These days, divorce has become the only solution to marital problems among couples that have never understood the responsibilities of marriage. They either didn’t make the right choice in the beginning or were forced into the marriage. But that it should come to a point when a divorce should be forced is unbelievably shocking.

Writing in a recent issue of the Arabic daily, Okaz, Rania Salamah, said: “I anxiously watched with a mixture of sadness, happiness, pride, shame, disgust, tension and relief an interview with Mansoor that appeared some time ago on the Al Ekhbariah channel.”

Mansoor is the man who had his happy marriage cut short when he was forcefully divorced from his wife by a judge in Al Jouf on the grounds of it supposedly violating social customs and practices. Mansoor told the story of how his brothers-in-law – who incidentally are his wife’s half-brothers – decided to dissolve his marriage because of supposedly tribal incompatibilities.

“Forcing a couple to divorce on tribal and social grounds is despicable and shameless,” said Salamah. “I believe there are two contradictory aspects to the story. One that makes you feels disgusted at the wife’s brothers, while the other makes you admire the couple for their courage in choosing to confront this injustice. Unfortunately, the court in Al Jouf issued its decision in August in the absence of both Mansoor and Fatima,” she said.

A few years ago after their marriage, the couple were shocked to learn that Fatima’s half-brother had filed a lawsuit to have their marriage annulled on the grounds that she belonged to a superior tribe to that of her husband’s. In fact, they were unaware of the crisis that had befallen them until the judge annulled their sacred union.

“How can a woman be divorced from her husband when she didn’t ask for a divorce nor did he divorce her?” asked Salamah.

The wife was forced to leave her house because of the court decision and had to go back and live with her family who instantly found her a new husband. The only common factor between her divorce and the second proposed marriage was that none of Fatima’s family members had bothered to consult her in either case.

“Perhaps, the family will be next considering killing her and then changing her son’s surname. I can just visualize the pre-Islamic state of ignorance this family is living in. To make things worse, finding no opportunity of recourse, the couple felt that the only solution they had was to run away with their children to Jeddah. However, Fatima’s brothers didn’t give up. They arranged for another decree giving her back to her family or ending up in prison,” Salamah said.

She added: “I admire the wife even more for her bravery in preferring imprisonment with her children instead of going to her parents’ home to be married off. It is better for her to be in jail for the time being than being divorced and entrapped. I also believe that her husband’s tears that flowed with the presenter asked him to address authorities in the kingdom for help, have dried up and he has lost hope. However, the case is still unsolved and needs a permanent solution.

Salamha said that this case is only one of a series of crimes that can potentially occur in the courts of justice. The question that kept running through her mind after watching the program was: “is the judge who issued the decision still practicing as a judge? I know that judicial authorities intentionally postpone cases for a long time when a wife files a case. Judges have every right to give a woman a chance to think twice. However, this honorable judge ruined a sacred union and allowed people with social and tribal sickness to triumph instead of advising them not to spread the disease among those free from such prejudices.”

Arab TimesKuwaitNovember 22, 2006

‘Forced to divorce’Court to rule on Marriage

RIYADH, Nov. 21 (RTRS): A Saudi appeals court is set to rule within days in the case of a couple forced to divorce against their will because of arcane tribal custom, a lawyer said on Tuesday.

A 32-year old Saudi woman, called Fatima, has been in prison for more than three months after she refused to return to her half-brothers’ home when a court last year annulled her marriage to Mansour Al-Timani, 36.

Custom in the conservative kingdom requires women to live with their families until marriage.

“We are waiting for the Court of Cassation to rule within days, less than a weel,” Abudulrahman Al-Lahem told Reuters. “The first verdict shocked society so there is great sympathy for the couple.”

Fatima’s brothers began the legal action last year saying Timani was not of good enough tribal stock to marry their sister and had lied to them when the couple first married.

PWC Logistics has changed its name to “Agility”. With a brand new, light and airy logo, it reminds me of feminine hygiene products: Agility – with wings.

Edo is NOT the best sushi in town. Sakura is. I don’t care what anyone says. I like it the best. Edo has a wonderful atmosphere, but their portions are tiny and the sushi aint all that.

I bought an “Alwaleed” chocolate croissant this morning on the run that had ab-so-lutely trace amounts of chocolate in it. Quite disappointing.

I received an e-mail from a “friend” who hasn’t bothered to keep in touch with me for about a year +. Out of the blue, he needs me to WRITE his master’s thesis and will pay cash. I told him I would do it for 2000 KD. I haven’t heard from him. BAM! Why can’t these people write their own papers and do their own work? It seems relatively logical.

I hate it when someone asks me to do something for them, then I do whatever the emergency thing is, send it to them – and they never even bother to call or follow up. (This is unrelated to the item directly above.) Bobarino, for example. I follow up with him on something he asked me to do and then he says, “I’m too busy right now! I’ll have to do that later.” Why do I bother playing with him?

Expat friends/acquaintences who hate Kuwait and All Things Arab: why the phuck don’t you just leave? I don’t understand this. I am not here to commiserate with you over your bigotry, prejudices and racial slurs and it makes the rest of us (who enjoy being part of the society where we live) look bad. I am not here “just to make money”. I have a little group of acquaintances (I’m choosing words carefully) who are – themselves – of different ethnic and racial backgrounds and have fallen prey to bigotry in their pasts. They’re the WORST when it comes to being prejudice against Arabs. That is just disgusting to me. How can you live in a society and not want to integrate or understand? Do they have Kuwaiti friends? No. Do they socialize with Kuwaitis? No. How can you make an educated determination of what is good and bad if you don’t have anything on which to base your conclusions?

Perhaps I am just all full of piss and vinegar this morning. It is a beautiful day. I have a lot to be thankful for (tomorrow is even Thanksgiving).

Da Tink – something to be very thankful for:

Did I tell youse guys about Tinkerbell? Wow. How could I have omitted Da Tink?

I was at a friend’s farm in Kabd when a thing ran past me at about 100 mph into the bushes. I asked him what it was, “A little dog. My friend left for London and gave her to me.” It turned out that the thing was a Yorkie. (Yorkie prices in the US start at around $1,000.) I couldn’t tell if it was a male or female or how old – it was badly matted and terribly scared; living outside on a farm with a pittbull, a cat, and a spitz (all in much better shape). I told my friend that he needed to take the dog to IVH for shots, grooming and de-worming. I couldn’t do much, since it was the first time I was invited to his farm. We were invited back the following week and I had a closer look at the dog. Somebody had given it a bath, but the fur was so matted that it looked like it was wearing full-body armor (kind of the same look as an armadillo). It was very scared and very thin. I waited till the friend got good and drunk and sacheted up to him, flirtatiously: ‘I’m taking that.’ (pointing to the dog). …. “waaaaoookay.”

I took the dog home in my car and had a good look at her – she turned out to be little girl with big, scared eyes - and horribly thin. The fur had matted over her behind so that she was trying to go, but there was literally no room for anything to move out. I cut off most of her fur and took her to IVH. She weighed 1.5 kilos. Thank God, there was very little wrong with her – other than not eating. She just felt sick and needed some TLC. For 2 weeks, she stayed on a pillow covered with towels and a hot water bottle on my floor. She wouldn’t come out – only to eat. She was house-broken within a week; very smart little thing.

We had her scanned for an RFID identichip, incase she was lost or stolen. There was nothing, so we had her chipped incase she ever gets lost (23 kd at IVH). The vet said that it appeared that someone, sometime had taken care of her; maybe they had just gotten sick of her and moved on to the next-most-amusing thing (X-box?). It really makes me sick when people don’t see pets as lifelong responsibilities, and not just as toys.

Tink now lives with The Romanian, where she is amazingly happy and putting on weight We take her and Desert Dog out to the beach for walks and Tink runs along smiling and barking, wagging her tail. She is an absolutely lovely little girl and even though she was horribly abused – is still incredibly friendly to everyone. I bought her an entire wardrobe of dog clothes including a jeans jacket and several sweaters (party dresses, of course!).

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

If we were hamsters, we’d snack, we’d nap, we’d think about working out, we’d snack again, nap some more….

Hey… wait a minute….

(That’s not original, by the by – I bought a greeting card in Target with that sentiment, but I love it.)

The Man’s first name was Hamed and I used to call him Hamster. I had this whole little routine worked out with my girlfriends of the “Hamster Dance”. Very amusing (to me!)

I had a date scheduled for tonight (from like a week ago) with a guy who I have been putting off. He’s ok and all that, but reeeeeeeeeal pushy. Anyhoo, he was all ready go to out with me and I said, “Pick me up at 7:30?” He said, “Can’t we make it after 9?” I like – WORK, you know? I get up before the sun rises. Turns out he “has a meeting” prior to 9 (Suuuuuuuure. And like – who schedules a meeting on the same night that you have a date you have been asking for for weeks?) So, I sent him a quick SMS from work, “I was planning on an early dinner and several hours of earth-shattering sex, but I’ll RSVP to that symposium that my boss wanted me to attend tonight instead -- since you’re busy…” He immediately called and said he would re-schedule his meeting. Yuh. Too late, buddy. You are on the “Grade A” Idiot List now.

…Just like the guy who has been asking me out for 6 months. I travel a lot, so I was THOUGHTFUL (AKA “stupid”) and brought him a bottle of cologne which I dropped off at his office. Dude calls me and tells me, “Oh, I’m getting engaged. I’m going to save this for my wedding.” No! I am not kidding!!! I couldn’t make this shit up even if I tried.

My life is good. I received a hokey e-mail from a friend, entitled, “I am thankful…” listing all the ways you can turn a negative into something to be thankful for. (for Example: For the clothes that fit a little too snug because it means I have enough to eat.For the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours because it means I am alive.) Well, in response to that e-mail… I am thankful that I do have men in my life and that I’m not a toothless no-job ugly chick with poor table manners driving a 25 year old Toyota. Yeah. I’ll keep telling myself that.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Purgatory is obviously tired of reading me rant about men and animals, so I will rant about something completely different....

There was an article in today's Kuwait Times (which I don't usually read, but everyone seemed to be out of the Arab Times this morning), titled, "Silk City: Mission Impossible" in reference to "(Silk City Project that will)... help transform Kuwait into a commercial gateway to the World." The author, Muna Al-Essa, basically shares the same sentiment I do - that although Kuwait has good intentions about mega projects - will the schemes actually draw people to the country?

Desert Girl says, 'Uh... noooooooooo....'

The current Kuwait commercial laws don't allow room for economic growth. Many Kuwaiti companies (like the big "A" dogs up in Sulaybia) are still mistreating workers - Western and Asian alike. The 2nd largest logistics company in Kuwait (rhymes with KG Hell) charges their employees for employment visas (500 kd for an Article 18). What is the going rate they have to pay - about 70 kd? Worker rights throughout Kuwait are minimal. Corruption is rampant - and for the most part, unchecked. Department of Labor at the Ministry of Social Affairs - WHAT IS YOUR WEBSITE? WHAT is your contact information?Where do you post your information and in what language? I've been here for ten years and I can tell you - I still can't easily find the answers.

The Kuwaiti planners are operating under the assumption of, "If you build it, they will come." UAE already has it. They must determine WHAT would entice international companies (or tourists) to come to Kuwait. Can they own property here? No. Can they easily open businesses here? No. At the bare minimum - most of the time, you can't even find a good lawyer here to BEGIN the process because no one is willing to make it easier with information in English or proper listings. Perhaps the thought of creating a website (in English and Arabic) for the Kuwait Association of Lawyers would be too much to ask?

The Free Trade Zone was supposed to be established to eradicate these types of issues. Basically, it was an opportunity to part these companies with their money. Everything costs MORE in the FTZ, it takes over a year to get a business license, and international companies still cannot own land. Get your employees visas? No way.

What about recreation? Why would your employees choose to stay here and spend money in the local economy? As taboo as the subject of alcohol is here - sorry - but it is an aspect of most CULTURES. Many people of Western cultures socialize with/gather around alcohol. If you are going to basically tell people, "Sorry, you gotta go somewhere else...." - they are going to go somewhere else. Dubai, anyone?

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Do you get all discombobulated on the seasons here? For me, this time of year feels like Spring. That’s mostly cause it is an extended period of time. Spring in Kuwait is a few nanoseconds before hot. Anyooooo, I decided that it was time for Spring cleaning. So, I am having my maid do that today. Tee hee. Why? Because I can. Why should I do anything myself when it is actually affordable to have somebody else do it for me? (I’m turning. You know it.)

I am sick of everything and most recently – it is my apartment. After 10 years, all my electronic stuff is going caput. Yes, it all decided to do it at the same time in this crappy year: I have had my same stereo system for 10 years; my same washer/dryer. All are caput.

The construction next to my window is getting better. No one died either. They are working during the day and the demolition work has stopped. Now, they are driving piles into the ground (which means more excavation, unfortunately). The pile driver thingy seems to be a sonar type (if there is such a thing) and not a pounding type. It is much quieter anyways and nothing is shaking.

I went to a party in the desert this weekend. They hired a slut all the way from Jordan to come over and entertain. Why? I don’t know. Men’s minds work in mysterious ways and I can’t figure it out. They thought she would be amusing. And get this – I was the guest of honor. Do I look like some kind of Jordanian-slut-loving lesbian or something? Why, for phuck’s sake, would I want to see that? They sent her over to welcome me and I was afraid to get slut-cooties. She talked like a high-pitched Mini Mouse (which I immediately started imitating), and spent part of the night hiking up her already incredibly tiny skirt, and the other part pouting and looking in her mirror. I’m sure she thought she was hot shit on a silver platter (to coin a phrase from the 80’s). I didn’t really enjoy myself because none of us “good girls” could relax having Ms. Slutinski wiggle, jiggle, giggle, and plant herself on various menfolk in the room. It was making me ill. I tried to drink myself into oblivion (apparently, the other LADIES did too). That worked pretty well until our friend, Bibi, got on with her normal self and started giving The Entertainment a hard time, while managing to direct it around her. Par example: “Saif! Saif! Sit properly!” (“egaad adel”) (when jiggly Jordanian sat on his lap, almost completely exposed). Too bad because I thought Saif had prospects --- until he wore her.

The Man continues to send me “Hi (Desert Girl)” messages to my mobile phone. Translation: I am really horny and I miss you and I’d like to get together for a no-questions-asked quicky, but I don’t want to call you because you might think it is a relationship. Yes. That is exactly what that translates to. Don’t doubt it for a second. If he weren’t so damn cheap, I might have sent The Entertainment his way. Dumbass.

For some reason, my phone didn’t ring all weekend. No puppies calling me (you know – the sad-eyed young boys who follow you around and call constantly). Every girl needs puppies.

I have a guy that I have been seeing on/off for about 4 years. Let’s call him Falcon Guy (cause yuuh – he has falcons). He’s a nice guy – tall, single, good family, good job, good personality – all that plus a bag of chips. However, he is one of these retarded individuals (and I don’t mean that as a slur to challenged people – I just think he is “held back”) that never wants to go out in public. Yeah yeah – I know… translation: its all about sex. I don’t mind that. Let’s just call a manwhore a manwhore. I know what it’s all about. If he agreed it was just that, I would too. No biggie (well, actually….) … ok, nevermind. Anyhow, he gets all upset when I’m out with guy friends or I come home late or I don’t call him. Now, he won’t even meet my friends (“he’s not your man”) or tell me (to my face) that he cares about me (“he’s not your man”). He’s all in the house, though, with a phone call or a “come now” SMS from me. He’s a manwhore, am I right? Why the possessiveness? I’m a single-source kind of girl, so that isn’t the issue. Is it just that he’s a guy and thinks that’s what he’s supposed to do? He doesn’t want ME to get possessive or girlfriendy, so why do that to me? Why the stress? Now, if he wants me to TREAT him like a boyfriend, he should start behaving like one, n’est pas?

Ok, let me back up for a moment… with The Man, I didn’t consider him a manwhore (at the time): I met his whole Bedouin family. He knew mine. My friends knew him. We went out everywhere together. We did everything together. He treated me as if I was already his wife - and yet – where is he now?

And, I’m sorry, but if you’re not a boyfriend, you don’t get special privileges like massages, good lingerie, home-baked goods, and all that crap. It is what it is. This, men, is why you get to pay for dinner and bring flowers and sweets and little surprises and taking the car to get serviced: The Extra Special Relationship Package.

Monday, November 06, 2006

I am the boringest frickin person I know and I’m getting tired of living with me. This year has been crap. That is my main reason for becoming Boring Girl. Even numbered years are always crap.

First, my dad died. It can’t get much crappier than that. Then, I got continually sick (e-coli poisoning, back/leg problems, weird ailments). Then, I lost my frickin stupid job. Then, the people who made me a WRITTEN job offer called me FIVE DAYS before my start date to tell me that they were pushing the start date back by a month (like we’re all living with our parents and/or are independently wealthy), so I had to find another job. Then, I break up with The Man in a rather grotesque and inhumane fashion. (But wait... there's more... with your Ginsu knives you also get....)

I miss The Man. He’s the worlds biggest sonofabitch, but I miss him. I tried to plot revenge, but none of my male Kuwait friends would help me. If you want to help, write to me (amerab@gmail.com). No violence or illegal behavior is involved – I promise. Really. It is all very passive-aggressive/obsessive. Slapperella: "You must stop this!" Whyyyyyyyyy? (Ally McBeal fantasy watching his head explode.) "Living well is the best revenge." Uh... yeah right. So is an exploding head.

...I'm back.

I wake up to myself. Alone. “All By Myself” playing in my head. Back to Bridget Jones. The pillows on the right side of the bed still neatly arranged and untouched. I am getting really tired of this. I am happiest in life when I can wake up to a totally wrecked bed and pillows all over the room (not to mention the lingerie, chocolate syrup and other things tossed about). I guess I’m not so ugly or so old because I’m still getting The Look (and from younguns too), but I am still alone. Ok – some of that IS because I am picky and I guess I could spend every single night laying neked next to a 25 year old and talk about how his day was at school. If only I could put 2 of them together to make a wealthy 50 year old who wants to marry, travel the world, and lavish me with gifts (of love – I’m no gold digger!).

Did I mention ducks? (No, I swear to God, I'm not doing drugs.) The ducks are our new biggest joke. In Schipol airport in Amsterdam, they sell what appear to be rubber bathtub ducks. Although, in reality, they are something more sinister (if you want to call it that): You see, the ducks vibrate. They are called "love ducks"; they are waterproof; they float; and they are disguised as cute little toys. Now, I bought several of these loveducks for my girlfriends (you read it right the first time), but they were a source of concern - especially in getting through Kuwait customs. I had the foresight (having seen them on a previous trip) to buy them on my way to the US (and could pack them in check-in luggage for the trip to Kuwait). My girlfriends were concerned. We dubbed (ha ha) the operation: Operation Rubber Ducky. The SMSs started circulating, "Ducks are in flight", "Ducks have landed", "Ducks under fawcet", and finally "Duck mission accomplished." Since then, anyone we tell about the ducks has been making duck jokes or bringing us ducks. It is quite entertaining. My duck is like one of the very best things I did for myself this year (other than the enormous engagement ring I bought myself after The Man and I broke up).

Oh… oh… oh… I didn’t even mention my garden wall. That sounds kind of lovely doesn’t it “garden wall” -- well, hell no! An A/C pipe broke between my bedroom wall and the bathroom. I complained to the building engineer (a most-hated-man named Rami) for a month. I started by saying that I had a water spot on my (newly-painted) bedroom wall. Then, it got bigger. Then, things started to grow (I would like to say it was mold, but it looked more like that red shit in War of The Worlds that took over the Earth). It grew and grew. I called Ramiasshole and his response (get ready for it: Bend over – I did.), “It is humid. It's normal.” Normal? To have a frickin mold garden with funky stuff growing on your bedroom wall?? WTF WTF WTF? Do I live in a frickin jkhoor? Well, they sent painters who 1) broke a gorgeous crystal vase my sister sent me 4 years ago on Christmas; 2) tore down my window shades; and 3) painted OVER the mold without treating the wall first. Yup. You got it – mold grows back when it isn’t treated. Anybody know a good painter? I can’t find my guy, Sayed. Of course not - I need him.

I forgot to mention that my refrigerator broke the day before I left to the US on business. All my food was thawing, so my hariss-dude had a feast (including baby-back ribs and some sage sausage). Whose REFRIGERATOR breaks? Isn't that unheard-of?

My friend, Slapperella, says, “My God, you have been through a lot this year. I don’t know how you are managing.” Well, I’m not. I could go ballistic at any moment. You know what they say about those serial killers, "... but she seemed so normal. She'd never done anything like that before..." I have been back to the States like 4 times this year. I’ve traveled a lot. I’ve done a lot. I still feel like I haven’t accomplished jackshit. Have you ever felt like your mind has just completely zoned someplace else? I don’t even feel like I’m here. I’m in suspended desertnation. AND I never used to swear as much as I am herein and forthwith.

All of my friends have stopped calling me because I just don’t feel like talking most of the time – and forget actually DOING something or GOING somewhere. I don’t mean to ignore anyone. I’m really an un-intentional bitch queen from Hell.

Maybe I’m cranky because Construction Project Number 8567 in the past 2 years in my freekin neighborhood has started. WTF??? Who is going to live in all these places? It all began with Khara-fee rippin up the street, putting it back; and rippin it up, and putting it back. Then, there was the big apricot mega-birdhouse at the end of the street (I couldn’t shout “Shut the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck up!” loud enough for them to hear apparently). It is almost completed. Now, they start on this one. Why, for fek’s sake, can’t they do all of this stuff at ONE time? What the hell is next?

Now, the 3 storey slum next to my bedroom window has come down. Do you know what time the buttholes start work? 9:30 PM! They work all night. They are within striking distance. So far, I have hit the bullseye with 3 different bottles of water. Rotten eggs and tomatoes are next. Who do I complain to? Does no one care about who lives in Salmiya?? Is it because we are all F-ing foreigners living in Salmiya?

And… most importantly… is it just ME that cares? I swearaGod, there must be 1,000 people living within the 2 blocks around this site and am I the ONLY one out there in my PJ’s complaining to the foreman (or whatever he is) at 2 am? And, why does the foreman (or whatever he is) bring his 4 year old to breathe asbestos dust at 2 am watching buildings be demolished and where the hell is its mother?

I went to the police station to complain. I made friends. Nothing changed.

I am looking for wastah at the Salmiya Baladiya. Who do I have to sleep with to get some sleep? Who is the parliament dude for Salmiya and where do I find him? Is he at least relatively good looking (if I MUST!).

Even Desert Dawg is a cranky bitch. She gets no sleep. Just a couple o’cranky old bitches in a construction site in a crappy year.

I went on business travel to Abu Dhabi last week and I was all happy because I thought I would finally get some sleep. Believe this? They were doing construction on the hotel and the jackhammering began at 6 am. My meetings weren't until 11 (on purpose). Have I been plagued by jinnis?

About Me

American semi-Kuwaiti living, working, eating, boating, and observing in Kuwait. Born in America, but raised with Kuwaitis, I get culture shock on both continents. No one understands me, but my dog, and she still gives me strange looks once in a while.
I do not accept payment for advertising; I won't entertain the thought. If I think your product or service is worthy of discussion, I will post about it. If I help you, you can send me pink roses.
If you are interested in reading about the Bedoun cause in Kuwait, see my posts which are tagged "Bedoun Civil Rights Movement".

Life in the Desert

I danced in the desert,I swam by the shores, I spent warm nights under starlit blankets of silver,I made friends from far-away placesI ate and drank and savored it allI loved and was lovedWhat more could anyone ask for?